Not One to Talk

Not One to Talk (Chapter 5)

Tyler:

     When I finally opened my eyes I felt as if I had to peel them open. My whole body felt numb, unfeeling. Above me was a plain white ceiling with various objects hanging from it that just screamed "hospital".

     Dang. That was the last place I wanted to be. Had I really hurt myself that bad?

     On the bright side though, I wasn’t dead. That was the good news. As far as bad news, I had yet to find out if there was any. With my luck, there would be.

     I heard voices in the distance and it took practically all of my strength to listen in. They were the voices of my parents.

     "Are you positive that's what happened?" my mom's unusually hard voice asked.

     "One-hundred percent," my dad's deep tone answered. "There's no other explanation for it."

     I could almost imagine my mom putting her head in her hands as she often did. "It just doesn't make any sense. Tyler is such a good kid. He wouldn't do something like that."

     "Well then, what do you suppose happened?"

     My frustratingly slow mind couldn't comprehend what they were arguing about.

     Suddenly a nurse appeared in front of me, her hazel eyes bright like she had just drunk a super-size cup of coffee. I let my eyes flutter close to avoid conversation.

     The nurse tsked irritably. "I thought he would be awake by now. He should be." She tapped my shoulder. "Honey? You awake?"

     I groaned. "No. I'm asleep, obviously. And I'm going to give you a very, very hard time if you wake me up fully. So just leave me alone, would you? I think it’s best for the both of us that you do."

     The nurse backed away from my bed, turned on her heel and sped hurriedly away from me. I almost felt bad for saying that to her.

     Almost.

Desiree:

     I felt as if I were in a dream. A crazy, jacked up dream. A dream that felt as if were so real it could only be real life.

     Unfortunately, the dream that I seemed to be in was real life. And there was nothing I could do about it. 

     The crazy part about my "dream" was that I was in the hospital. I never went there unless I was dying or puking blood or something horrific like that.

     So why exactly was I there?

     The last thing I remember was blacking out after I had read that letter. Nothing came to mind after that; it was just a dark blur. Had my parents brought me here because I fainted? No. That wasn't likely. 

     But still. . .

     I decided to give up on figuring out the reason why I was strapped to the gurney and looked around. This hospital was nothing exciting - just plain aqua green walls and a bland white ceiling. God, I hated the place already.

     A nurse strode past my bed quickly, like she was trying to get away from something. Or someone. Her name-tag read Hello, my name is Julia. 

     "In a hurry?" I asked, the corners of my mouth creeping upward.

     She let out a sigh. "Not really. I just got threatened by a patient. Well, I guess not threatened, rather he wanted me to get away from him. Boys are so ridiculous."

     "Aren't they?" I agreed.

     Julia nodded. "He had quite an attitude for someone who just got stabbed no more than twenty-four hours ago."

     I gasped. "Stabbed? How did that happen?"

     "I don't know for sure, but we think he tried to kill himself. The parents are convinced that's what happened, although he doesn't seem like that kind of boy to me."

     I wasn't sure how to respond to that. It was so sad that people actually wanted to die and would kill themselves to so they could. What was the world coming to?

     A loud crash interrupted my thoughts. Julia frowned and said, "That doesn't sound good. I'd better go check that out." She sprinted down the hall.

     "Finally she's gone," a voice sighed beside me, making me jump.

     I turned to my right. I hadn't even realized there was someone else lying in another bed right next to me. His body was covered with blankets, but his head poked out on one end. His eyes were blue and troubled, shaded by his dark eyebrows. A thick, matted mass of black hair shrouded his head. 

     He huffed indignantly. "She talked about me like I wasn't even here! First she annoys the hell out of me, then she tells everyone why I'm here!"

     My eye's widened. "You're the one who got stabbed?"

     "Yup. Tyler Marshall at your service." He nodded on my direction.

     "Um," was the only thing I could manage to get out of my mouth.

     Tyler laughed dryly. "Don't talk much, do you?"

     "I guess you could say that. But just tell me one thing - did you really try to kill yourself?" 

     When Tyler's eyes met mine, I saw unbelievable sadness that pained me to look at. I had a feeling his real life dream was a lot more messed up than mine. 

     And maybe - just maybe - I was right.